Dancing, Which I Don't, My Ending

*** The following was not seen by the husband, but is provided for the reader:

The last exchange between her husband and the woman he was dancing with caused his wife to get up suddenly and look as if she were going to charge out on the floor. Harmon grabbed her by the arm as she stood and stopped the attempt. "What are you going to do when you get to them? Think, that's nearly identical to the way we were behaving just a few minutes ago. What are you going to say? I can do that, but you can't?"

Defeated, she slumped back into her chair and said, "I gave him no reason to hook up with her."

"Actually, you probably won't like my saying so, but I think you did," Harmon replied.

"Bullshit. What? Are you turning on me now also?"

"No, I'm not, but your husband wasn't the only one taken unawares tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you invited me to come tonight, but let me believe that your husband would be OK with our dancing, while he does what? Look stupid? Truthfully, if one of my dates pulled a trick on me like this... well I think it would be the last date with her."

"I just wanted to spend an evening dancing," she sighed.

"What did he believe was going to happen tonight, before he found out about me, that is?" Harmon asked.

"He had told me that he wanted to be with me, have a romantic dinner, and reconnect."

"And you invited another man along?"

"I guess maybe that wasn't so smart. What do I do now?"

"I truly don't know. But do not put me further into the middle of this, he already hates me, and probably thinks that I instigated it," Harmon stated.

"I never suggested that you had, not even a little," she replied.

"You wouldn't have to. A male's nature, all the way back to his primitive state, is to regard another man as an adversary, at least until proven otherwise."

Panicked, the woman I married grabbed Harmon's hand, and the two of them headed for the floor. Donna and I remained out there, as several nice ballads played. I was struggling to keep up the appearance that I was enjoying myself, but Donna kept distracting me. She allowed me peeks at her tits and rubbed up against me, causing my dick to become erect. I wondered if my wife noticed.

That time around their dance moves were not nearly as graceful as they had been before and they ended their dancing before my partner and I decided to take a break.

Upon returning to the table, I found my wife had attempted to try and cut Donna out, by sitting across from Harmon. Her plan was Donna would have to sit across from me, leaving my wife closer to me. The strategy failed, as Donna looked right at my bride, smiled and sat right in my lap. If looks could kill...

The next move had also been predicted by my partner. Harmon got up and asked Donna to dance. Funny, this time he didn't ask my permission first.

You could hear the gasp when Donna said, "Thank you for the kind offer, but I only dance with the guy I'm with."

That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. My wife jumped up and started a tirade.

"Get your skanky ass off of my husband's lap. This has gone on long enough. There's no fucking way that he meets you and throws me out for you in only a single night. He's mine, so get the fuck up and away from him before I claw your eyes out," my wife screamed, with tears running down her face and snot coming out of her nose.

Many other patrons in the club stopped what they were doing to take in the entertainment. Even the disc jockey decided it was time for a break and stopped playing music.

Donna answered, fire with fire, "First, I'd wipe your dumb ass out in one minute flat. But more importantly, why do you have the right to date another guy and your husband is left to yank his dick?"

"I'm not dating anyone else!"

Pointing at Harmon, Donna said, "Then who the hell is this? A figment of somebody's imagination?"

"He's not my date!" my wife insisted.

"You been here with him tonight? Been dancing with only him tonight? Been rubbing your tits all over him tonight? It sure looks like a date to everybody in this room."

"Bullshit. Who are you to speak for everybody?" my wife challenged.

Then louder, so everyone could hear, "OK, show of hands; how many think this bitch has been on a date with this guy?" Donna asked as she pointed at Harmon.

She was playing to a supportive crowd who had heard enough of the argument to have an inkling of what was going on, plus they had observed the two excellent dancers all evening.

Damage to my wife's version was massive as nearly all of the patrons nearby raised their hands, supporting the statement that my wife was there on a date with Harmon.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I love to dance and he won't take me, indicating with her thumb that she wasn't talking about Harmon. That's all this was, me getting to do something I love," my wife retorted, trying to gain support.

"OK, so since your hubby has not been providing something you love, it's alright to get it from another man? When is the last time you gave your hubby a good BJ?" Donna asked, causing a collective gasp, followed by giggles from everyone except my wife, who scowled at her tormenter, as words would not leave her mouth.

"I understand that he loves that, but you stopped treating him to those the day you walked down the aisle. Don't bother to deny it, I already know that is the truth. Since we're now using your rules; I'm going to take him outside and give him a BJ that will be his thrill of a lifetime," Donna challenged, holding out her hand to me.

Even I was stunned, and uncertain if I should take her hand. I was fairly sure this was a hollow threat Donna had thrown in my wife's face, but I took her hand anyway.

That did it, my wife seemed totally defeated, but managed to croak out, "No. Please, please, no. I'm begging you, I love you, we're married, please don't go with her."

Donna went in for the jugular, "You stupid, stupid woman. Many married people have to give up something they love in order to preserve their bond. Some women go through the change and can't tolerate sex anymore, many can be helped, but some can't. If that happens to you, does your husband get to screw women all over town? What if you were in an accident that left you paralyzed from the waist down? Should he just wheel you into a corner while he has a great time with a willing woman?

"So, what had you given up? Dancing? Big fucking deal. And you needed it so bad that you set your husband up tonight by informing him at the last minute that you had invited another man to come along on a date so that you could have a good time, dancing and rubbing yourself all over that guy?

"I didn't mean it to be that way. I figured that he would get a little mad at me, but nothing I couldn't fix. Why the fuck are you butting in? You don't love him," my wife asked with tears streaming down her cheeks, mascara running, struggling to say things to defend her marriage because she was full of emotion and embarrassment.

"Believe it or not, I'm doing you a favor. I wish to hell someone had done this for me when I needed to take a hard look at my own actions.

"I had a good man. I decided that I didn't want to give up flirting with men. My husband didn't like it, said he would leave me. I thumbed my nose at him, did what I wanted to do -- I wasn't going to cheat on him, but I kept up the flirting!

"I just liked stirring men up, some call it being a cock tease. Now, I guess I can tease all I want, I'm divorced and the love of my life found a better woman," Donna said, her voice had become shaky and she began crying nearly uncontrollably.

Turning to Harmon, she said, "Would you be so kind as to take me home?

Stunned, he replied, "I... I guess so."

Gesturing to my wife and I she continued, "They need to sort this out. You and I are now distractions. We need to go."

"Yes, you are right. Good night all, it has been... memorable," he said as he took Donna's arm and escorted her out of the club.

Half way out Donna turned toward Harmon, and punched him in the arm, then they both started giggling. She took his arm again and they left. I found out later that he playfully asked her if he could have the BJ that was offered to me!

"So, shall we have that talk now?" I asked my recovering wife.

"Yes, my love. There is a lot that I need to say to you, but not here, OK?" she responded.

I paid the tab, and fortunately the small crowd that had collected in our vicinity had dispersed. The trip home began in silence, but somewhere around halfway there an incredible new chapter in our married life began.

Lust cannot be avoided by a normal male, even an angry one like I was, when a beautiful woman unclasps her seatbelt in order to gain access to your zipper.

I thought, "Jesus, is she really going to suck on my cock while I'm driving?"

The answer to that arrived only seconds later as I attempted to focus on the road ahead as her mouth encased my shaft. As she swirled her tongue around and sucked lightly, I started desperately looking for a place to pull over.

Luck was with me as a parking lot for a closed establishment appeared and I was able to whip the car in, stop, and get it into park without killing us.

Not wanting to spoil the moment, I remained silent, but managed to unbuckle my seatbelt, and raise up enough to allow my pants to be slid down, along with my boxers. My wife had never been so determined to get at my cock and I wasn't about to try and stop her.

Possibly wanting to one up Donna's claim of giving me something better than she ever had, my lovely bride told me to lean my seat back as she turned her back and said, "Zipper."

I complied. The cocktail dress was designed to be worn braless, so when the top of it went down to her waist, her 36 C tits were exposed for my pleasure.

She was on a mission, with no delay she resumed her ministrations and included those luscious tits in the action, scraping precum off of my dick with her nipples, then licking it off of them.

I would like to claim that I set a personal record, holding out for a while, but that would be bullshit... I came like a geyser in no more than 2 or 3 minutes. She stayed committed, swallowed all of it, and licked her lips clean.

When it was over, she didn't cover herself. Instead, she just looked deeply into my eyes, her's pleading with mine to tell her that I loved her.

I didn't. Instead, I said, "I absolutely loved that, but I'm still pissed off at you."

"I know you are, and you have a right to be. This was just my way of introducing you to the new way that it's going to be between us, if you will accept my apology for my behavior tonight."

"I do love you, but no more talk here, let's go home," I said, then got myself in order, put the car in drive, and headed back out on the road.

In minutes we were at our house. Once there, we resumed our talk, with me starting the conversation.

"Baby, I'm a jealous man. I'll admit that it is possible that I am overly so, particularly when it comes to dancing. I've held my tongue over the years when you were on the floor with some guy trying to hold you close, leaning into your neck, inhaling your scent, trying to get a look down your dress at your tits. Even though I didn't comment, or cause a scene, I hated it."

"I knew. I've always known, I could feel it. The cold vibes coming off of you could have frozen over Lake Erie. I think you have to admit, though, I never allowed them to continue. They always got chastised for their improper behavior," she answered.

"Yes, I realize that there haven't been many cases of it, and you always did reprimand them, but I still hated it," I admitted.

"I know that in your mind dancing is a prelude to sex. That it's a socially acceptable ritual for a man and woman to begin to explore each other's body. I have always seen it differently; I viewed the two things as separate entities. Sexual interaction and dancing being two entirely different things.

"As I look back on tonight's events, I can more clearly see that they are not always separate things. I allowed the excitement of doing something I really like remove the cautions I would normally have in place, preventing me from doing something that might hurt my husband.

"I confess that I knew that John and I were going past the line for a married woman; out of respect for her husband, a proper wife should end the inappropriate contact or stop altogether. As we moved closer together, I didn't resist. I know I should have, but I need to confess everything now, though I know that it will hurt you further and you'll be even more disgusted with me," she warned.

"Do I need a drink?" I asked, partly stalling, partly scared to death that she was going to tell me that she needed this fucking guy all of the time.

"Let's both get one. I'm so ashamed. I don't want to tell you the whole truth, but I must," she answered, then set out to get us a large portion of our favorite mind-numbing elixir.

I took off my sport jacket and settled into a large comfortable chair in the family room. There was a matching love seat, but I was uncertain if I wanted to be that close to her, depending on what this confession turned out to be.

My wife selected the love seat, actually I had left her little choice. The pause that she made, looking at where I had chosen to sit, then at me removed any doubt that my action was deliberate. An even sadder look came across her face.

Her delay caused me to initiate whatever was to happen, "It's your dime."

"I know. It is so awful, to have to tell you this, but if we're going to survive, truth is the only way. You have always maintained that 'Dance is symbolic of, and often a prelude to sex, always has been and always will be' and I had always just as vehemently denied that was true, at least as far as I was concerned, that is.

"I must confess to you that for the first time, tonight, you were right, even concerning me. As we were moving so well together, I became aware that because he was wearing a silk shirt and the material of my dress was also very thin, John could likely feel my breasts against his chest almost as if we were naked. God, this is so hard to admit to my husband... but as my nipples began to harden, I stayed pressed against him, wanting him to feel them stiffen."

"Son of a bitch," I howled, and left for the bathroom. I hadn't needed to be there, piss was not knocking at the door, puke was not trying to spew out; I was just unraveled. The thing that I feared for all of these years seemed to be knocking at my door and I was not ready to face it.

Some time passed, enough to cause worry I guess, for there was a light tap on the door, and a soft voice inquiring if I was alright. I answered that I would be back out shortly, however, I was actually still stalling.

I returned to the living room, but decided I needed another drink... my wife declined.

"So, continue, where were we? Ah yes, my loving wife was getting off letting another man feel her nipples stiffen. Please continue," I said, having a strong amount of venom return to my voice.

"I guess that I deserve your harsh reaction, but, if it helps, that's the worst of it. I realized immediately what I had done. I began to panic. The spell was broken and I told John that I should never have allowed that contact.

"He was a gentleman. There was no acknowledgement that he had felt them react. During our next dance I noticed that two of the women had left, and you seemed to be enjoying Donna's company.

"My husband, my love, inviting another man, particularly one that you had never met, without consulting with you first was reprehensible, I see that now. I pledge to you that I will never disrespect you again.

"As far as dancing is concerned, how much we do or don't will be as you wish, and I will be content with your decision.

"I am so ashamed of what I did with John tonight, I do not completely understand how, after all of these years, I got so carried away. Please believe me when I assure you that John remained a perfect gentleman.

"Many men would have taken my actions as a green light; I know in my heart it would not have gone farther, but instead of taking advantage of me, John helped to snap me back to reality.

"Please forgive me," she said, her eyes showing fatigue from the strain of coming totally clean.

I was certain that she was telling me the truth and very relieved that there hadn't been any more serious contact between them. I was also forced to soften my opinion of Harmon. He could have attempted much more, but apparently, he had not.

"So, you're telling me that even though you gave him an opening, he resisted? Seems unlikely," I said, wanting her to grovel some more, even though I was certain Harmon was innocent of being a cad. Deep down, I knew that eventually I would forgive her.

"That you set up that whole business up tonight, to invite another man along, for ANY reason hurt me deeply. That the woman I love would want, even for the briefest amount of time, some other man to have the pleasure of feeling her nipples harden stuck a blade into my being," I said, desperately wanting her to understand the depth of my pain.

Then I thought of other men, whose wives had actually had sex with a paramour, and saw their way through to forgive them. This offense was not nearly that intense, and I had yet to admit to her that I too had enjoyed forbidden fruit. I had similar physical contact and the unobstructed visual pleasure of another woman's breast that evening. Donna had not restrained herself, and deliberately allowed me some liberties.

A few moments went by as I decided whether to share my confession. During my delay, my anxious wife restated her case, "I love you more than anything. I need to hear that you know that I didn't want John for anything except a dance partner. I know I got a bit carried away with him on the dance floor.

"I have always told you that there is nothing sexual going on between my dance partner and me, that if there's any contact, it's purely accidental with an absence of impure thoughts. Tonight, I was proven wrong. You, were right and I can't express how sorry I truly am."

"I do believe you, that you didn't have thoughts of infidelity at the beginning. I also believe that Harmon wasn't trying to seduce you. I do believe that you used my lack of enthusiasm for dance to justify what I do consider disrespect -- inviting a man to join our date, without my input, plus intending to be in his arms most of the night, while I did what? Jerk off and drink?"

"I will never do anything like that with another man. Never, ever, again, I swear. Please give me another chance, I'll give up any and all dancing, if that's what you want."

"Since you've been truthful, telling me everything, even your thoughts when you knew they would be hurtful, I must return the favor. Donna did not keep a proper distance between us, either on the floor or while we were seated.

"I could have and I should have resisted her better, but I was enraged by your actions and wanted to strike out at you.

"I was offered, and enjoyed an unobstructed visual survey of her breasts, as well as the feel of them pressed tightly into my chest. Her nipples hardened also," I said.

"I know, well I assumed that she was allowing you to become quite familiar with her body. What you didn't see, or least what I think you missed was at one point I jumped up out of my chair, intending on running out on the floor, ripping her out of your arms, and scratching her eyes out. John stopped me by grabbing my arm.

"When I bitched about what you were doing with her, he pointed out that I had done a similar thing with him only a short time before. He went on to say, and I'll quote him, 'Truthfully, if one of my dates pulled a trick on me, like you have done on your husband tonight... well, I think it would be the last date with her,' which hit me hard," she said with tears filling her eyes.